ImPerceptibility

Posts Tagged ‘walk’

Sorry for the delay in the story. Life was keeping me too busy to write and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write as the ending anyways. I don’t feel too bad about keeping you waiting because I think anyone that has read my blog for any period of time already knows that I finished this walk. There was no way I would get 5/6 of the way across England and not finish the last 15 miles. You know me better than that.

I woke up naked and alone in my room. I was still a little drunk but not much. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was MyHusband stroking my cheek, speaking soft love words in my ear, and telling me how well I had done so far. Even though every inch of my body was sore I got up and got dressed and packed up. My sore blistered feet gingerly made their way down the three flights of stairs and into a gray dull morning. I secretly hoped it would stay that way all day. I secretly love gray dull days. They energize me more than they depress me. I guess that says something about me, or maybe not.

It took a few miles but my muscles loosened up and my feet went numb. I was doing pretty good and making good time. Iain joined us for a few miles. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to walk with us, he was hoping I’d take off my shirt again, or he had been assigned to us to make sure I didn’t die along the way. Either way he was a lot of fun and we had a good conversation. He seemed like a good guy. I hope I didn’t bore him too much with my stories. For some reason I told him some things you’ll never see me write about on here and the payment book for the hush money should be arriving in my mail any day now.

The day was going good until it started raining. It wasn’t bad at first. A light drizzle that made me feel rebellious and carefree. Walking through the rain, spirits high, bring it on! I can take it. What else you got? Then it got worse. And my formerly aching body became currently aching. Each step was harder than the last. This is where I perfected what MyHusband calls “The Windup”

First my hips would cramp and I would stop and stretch them out. Then I would take a few shuffling steps (Something like this), then I’d manage to slowly take larger more meaningful steps. I’d just be getting back into my pace when my hip would cramp again and I’d start all over again. In a way it was comical, in another way it wasn’t.

The windup continued as we walked across the most depressing marsh land I’d ever encountered. It was mile after mile of flat boring land and every inch was covered in shit – wet, slimy, slippery shit. It was not pleasant but it was the end so it was mostly tolerable. Thanks to the rain and shit there was nowhere to sit down so even at an the oldest fireman’s pace we were making good time and after what seemed like hours, because it was hours, we saw some people standing in front of a pub.

Upon entering the establishment we were informed there was only one more mile to the end. I guess I was supposed to be happy but for some reason I wasn’t. As much as I wanted it all to be over, there was still a part of me that didn’t want it to end. I declined an invitation to sit down and have a drink because I was afraid I would not be able to get up again. Sounds dramatic but it wasn’t too far from true. We walked the last mile with a few others and it did feel good to finish. It felt better to get to the pub at the end and sit down.

I sent a text message to my oldest, “We did it!”

She texted back, “OMG Awesome!”

It made my week.

We celebrated finishing the walk and also celebrated Ed’s 65th birthday with a delicious chocolate cake. Then a rowdy bus ride, that I’m sure horrified the locals, back to Carlise finished out the day.

Pizza in bed with MyHusband was dinner that night and I feel asleep in a comfy bed beside him and spent the night dreaming about salty waves on my favorite beach with the people I love. It was time to pack up these memories, take what I could from them, and move on to new ones.

Thank you to everyone. It was an adventure and I am happy to have had the opportunity to share it with you.  I’ll finish up with saying, “Until next time.” Where next time involves less walking and animal dung, but more beer!

I woke up feeling pretty good and rested considering I’d spent the night sleeping with five very attractive men. I was a bit disappointed I’d only seen two of them naked but what can you do? I was ready to hop out of bed and start my day but it didn’t happen. I could not lift my legs over the side rail of the bunk bed. “Holy Shit!” I thought, “I have done permanent injure to my lower extremities.” I laid there for a little while listening to everyone breath then I rolled over and went back to sleep. I decided to try again later and it worked out for me. Mostly because when I woke up the second time I was hungry. Very, very hungry. It motivated me.

We packed up, picked up our lunches and got ready to head out. Oli gave me a walky talky to keep in touch with the rest of the group. “Cleanup on aisle 6” I announced into the handset with my best supermarket announcer voice. No one answered so I figured either mine wasn’t working or my humor wasn’t appreciated. It happens. It happens a lot actually. I’m used to it.

We had a nice day for walking. The view wasn’t as spectacular as Day 3 but the path was flat and grassy. At this point I needed flat and grassy. It was nice listening to the chatter over the handset as we walked. It didn’t seem like we were all alone in the middle of nowhere. Plus Oli’s banter was quite motivating. We were doing pretty good that day until I realized I had to use the bathroom.

I really needed to use the bathroom. Unfortunately we were walking in a more active area and there wasn’t any public bathrooms to be found. We walked and watched a farmer harvest an entire field of wheat. And I still had to use the bathroom. My bladder was aching, and yes, the bathroom. In desperation I grabbed a tissue from MyHusband’s pack and ran behind a tree.

I looked behind me and and I looked in front of me. There was no one around so I dropped my pants and started taking care of business. I was mid business when I saw two women with a dog walking up a previously unnoticed path to my right. There was no grab and run. The floodgates had been released and they weren’t stopping for two women with a dog. I sat there crouched beside a tree , white ass gleaming, peeing and trying to act casual. I managed to finish up before they got close enough to identify me, I think. I scurried back to my husband with my undies in a bunch from the quick pull on and run. We sat on a bench pretending we were having an intense discussion. They walked by and I had to bite my lip hard so I wouldn’t laugh when the dog stopped by my pee tree and looked at it funny.

MyHusband and I had our first argument and only argument of the trip today. It really wasn’t much of an argument, half-assed at best. We have done better. It was almost pathetic as far as arguments go and not really worth mentioning. Moving on.

We finally arrived in Carlise and it looked like a fun town. I was too beat to really care but it looked fun. We made our way up to our room on the third floor and I took off my boots. Big mistake.

My big toe had a huge blood blister going completely around my nail and there were pieces of skin hanging off the side. The toenail was a disgusting color of purple and it was numb.

“Just look at my toe!” I whined to MyHusband. Then I started to cry. It seems crying was becoming a habit on this trip. It was what it was.

I managed to eventually get myself together enough to head back out for dinner. I felt bad that we had missed seeing the founder of the organization we were walking for but what can you do? I walked into the bar and ordered a beer. Then I drank it, quickly. About the time I was peering up through the bottom of the glass, emptying the last precious drop into my mouth I had a revelation. I would drink until everything stopped hurting. It seemed like a good plan. I was looking through the bottom of the second, or maybe third pint when I saw Rajiv taking off his shirt.

“We’re supposed to take off our shirts!” I shouted. Who knew British Pub etiquette dictated taking off your shirt before drinking? No wonder I was having problems getting to know people. I was uneducated about the local customs. When in Rome, I thought. That’s when I frightened an entire pub full of innocent people. I don’t think anyone really needed to see me pulling off my shirt but at least everyone was polite enough to act like they liked it. Some of them were kind enough to act like they really, really liked it.

We went for a great dinner at a Chinese restaurant shortly after that. It was fun night and I downed a couple more beers. By the time I fell into bed at the end of the night I was quite happy. Only 15 miles left, I sang in my head like a small child singing a nursery rhyme. 15 Miles to go. I’m going to make it.

I woke up and rolled over onto my back and looked up. There was a bird chirping in the tree I was sleeping under and I was hoping he would crap on me. It would have been a perfect start to the day but my wishes were unfulfilled. I laid there a little longer wondering what homeless people though when they first woke underneath a bridge, in a tunnel, or beside a tree? I thought maybe I should ask a few, maybe make a documentary, but then I realized I was probably better off not knowing.

The cornflakes did not taste like corn and the milk did not taste like milk. The bowl was nice, though. I remembered lumpy oatmeal I had eaten on a cold morning with the sun coming up over the mountains. My soul was filled to full with drunken conversations and music that made me cry happy, longing tears. Tears filled with promises and hope. Then I started crying, but these tears were different. They were lonely, homesick, angry, bitter tears and they wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck ‘em all” MyHusband whispered in my ear. “It’s just me and you.”

I put my buff on Jesse James style and begrudgingly fulfilled my obligations full of resentment and my unending stream of tears strategically hidden from view. “Fuck ‘em. I might be crying but they won’t see me cry.”

We set off and I began limping my way down the path, heading out for the next 15 miles of my journey.

The day went. There were good parts – Standing on top of a ridge arms outstretched. The wind blowing hard against me and cautiously balancing on the very tip top. Hoping not to fall. There were bad parts – Freakin’ blisters. But mostly there were just parts and I made my way through them. It was nice to see the hostel at the end of the day. Only two more days.

I was at the hostel having a nice conversation with Justin when I looked up. What I saw almost made me run. Something was making it’s way, slowly and painfully, into the room and it was a very strange color and it was frightening.

“Oh my Lord!” I thought. “That man has been attacked by a zombie!”

I quickly went through my emergency plans I have stored in my head and realized I did not have one labeled, “Zombie Attack Abroad” I decided to use my default plan. I asked Martin if I could get him some ice for his swollen severely sunburned knees. Much to my relief, after some rest and ibuprofen he seemed to be doing a little better.

Dinner that night was good – Veggie Lasagna – and once the doors in the hallway stopped banging every 30 seconds, so was sleep. It was a good night even if Ian didn’t seem to notice that Oli had short sheeted his bed.

I woke the next morning and found that either MyHusband had rolled me out of the crack between the beds or I had managed to work myself out. I was propped up on pillows surrounded by fluffy softness with the sun shining in the window. I looked around a beautiful room and wished I had a chance to enjoy it properly. I made my way downstairs and had a huge bowl of granola and strawberries, picked up an egg salad packed lunch, grabbed a few bananas, then we headed out. I was feeling strong even though I was trying to walk out the stiffness in my feet and hips. But I didn’t take myself too seriously. After all, how serious can things be when you are walking like a gorilla down a tree lined path eating a yummy banana. The day was off to a good start and I was soon to find it was only going to get better.

This wasn’t an easy day. It involved a lot of climbing. A LOT of climbing and it was very tiring, but the top of every hill had a better view than the last. It was a beautiful day and the sky got bluer as we went on. The clouds were puffy and white, the grass was a perfect green, and the bright colors from wildflowers were speckled across fields. I ignored the dead animals a farmer had hanging on his gate. WTF? Anyways, besides that it was beautiful.

Part of the way into the walk we met up with Phil and we stayed with him for the rest of the day. It was nice talking with him and I enjoyed his thoughtful way of thinking about and discussing things. It felt right hearing about his kids and his thoughts about the walk so far. A little later we met up with Arjan, Jo, and Ellie. We all made our way up hills and down hills, over rocks and under trees. They were all fun and cheerful and I enjoyed every minute I walked with them. Even the minute I realized I had caused permanent harm to Arjan’s psyche by playing with his zipper then, being unable to do it right, calling MyHusband over to finish it up.  Then it happened.

Ellie twisted her ankle on a rock and my heart sunk. There was nothing I could do but hope she was alright. We tried to take her bag for her but she refused. Jo tried to give her an extra walking stick to help her walk but she refused. She rubbed some icy hot on it, got back up and started walking. She walked up very steep rocky hills and back down the other side with a sprained ankle. Jo was beside her every step of the way, cheering her on. I was so impressed with them. The world would be a better place if more of us had that much strength and character.

We took our time and made it to the pub with not much time to spare before dinner. When we walked in everyone shouted and I startled.  I took a few steps back because I thought something was about to fall on me. Then I realized it was a welcoming cheer and not a warning shout. Of course by then it was too late and everyone had gone back to what they were doing. I managed to to get a beer suggestion from Les before sitting down. It was a good beer. Thanks Les.

I was worried about dinner – Lentil Pie – but it was unfounded. It was delicious and reminded me of a dish my mom used to make, except she used rice instead of lentils. It felt comforting and I felt warm and happy. I was proud of what I had accomplished that day. We left right after dessert with full stomaches, wonderful memories, and a head full of some of the most beautiful scenery I had ever seen.  I was ready for a shower and bed. Life was good and nothing was going to change that, or would it?

As soon as the sun started to show through the curtains we got up and packed our stuff. It was going to be all adrenalin and chocolate today. Four four-mile walks I told MyHusband. We can do it! And to be honest, four four-mile walks would have been great. We went down the stairs and the entire place was pitch black. We were as quiet as we could be lugging packs down a set of dark narrow stairs and I felt relieved when we made it to the door alive. We looked around but there was no one to be found. We looked for something to write on but there was no paper to be found. We decided to text Dan in a few hours so he could let our fellow walkers know that we had survived the night with Insane B&B Man and were walking our way to the next stop of our journey. At this point I wasn’t missing breakfast at all, but I would. Oh yes, eventually I would.

The map had a stop labeled Great Northern Lake. A good stop for breakfast? Sounded good to me and it was. The air was crisp and refreshing and I felt alive. I questioned the use of the descriptors great and lake but it was a nice pond. It even had a swan. I ate a granola bar and some jelly beans. We kept looking at each other and laughing. I started my first round of apologies and promises of restitution to MyHusband.

After a leisurely breakfast we walked some more. Eventually I took off my boots and walked barefoot. The path was soft and my feet appreciated the break. Then we ran into two men walking the other way. I explained that my feet hated shoes because my parents had raised me as a heathen. It seems English men are fond of heathens. Who knew? I hoped that heathen meant the same thing in England as it did in America.

It all gets blurry here.  I remember gates, stiles, more stiles, sheep poo and more sheep poo.  The next thing I remember I’m sitting at table outside a pub feeling very dizzy, eating a cheese and tomato sandwich and drinking a coke. It was the best sandwich I had ever had. Some members of our group caught up with us there and I got all mushy and watery inside when I found out they had brought our bagged lunches with them to give to us. I can’t for the life of me remember who they were, but thank you. That was too nice.

After a break and more food we started walking again. I was feeling better and more confident. I was ready to walk the last two four-mile walks. And we walked. And we walked. And we walked. The we walked some more. I ended up sitting in the middle of a cow pasture surrounded by piles of cow poo cursing Dan, his arithmetic teacher, and every map maker that ever existed. I looked up at MyHusband and shouted, “Apparently Dan is mathematically challenged because this is not sixteen fuckin’ miles!” I suggested we call it good for the day and sleep in a barn. Then I burst into hysterical laughter when MyHusband casually hands me a chocolate bar.

We made it to the next stop. I dragged myself up the stairs and into a hot bath where I fell asleep next to a family of bright yellow rubber duckies. MyHusband woke me up and poured me into bed where, as I fell down between them, I realized the double bed was actually two single beds that had been pushed together. “Just leave me here. I’ll be fine.” And I fell fast asleep.

It was nice to hear the laughter downstairs even if I was too beat to make it down for dinner. It sounded like happy times and tomorrow, after I slept, after the jet lag wore off, once I had plenty of protein in my body, I was planning to be a part of them as well.

I don’t, for even one minute, doubt that there is a single person I spent six days of my life walking across England with that I would not enjoy spending time with. Everyone was interesting, unique and entertaining. They all had good hearts and a wonderful sense of adventure. However, I don’t think I picked the right venue to get to know them. Maybe a picnic at the park, a dinner at a favorite restaurant, or a short stroll through the mountains in the fall would have been a better option. I didn’t have those options available so I took what I could get. I did the best I could and I only half regret my choices. Maybe as time passes I won’t regret them at all. Maybe. We’ll see. I hope.

We were on the right train but going in the wrong direction. It was a circle loop so we would get there, we just weren’t going to be on time. My anxiety about being late was building but held in check with light conversation and a little silliness from a fellow walker we met as we entered the train station. Oli had tired eyes with occasional and cautious sparks of mischief that made me smile even though I was exhausted from our 30+ hour pilgrimage to New Castle and short nights sleep. I was happy that I could mostly understand him in spite of his accent and was bursting with excitement by the time the train pulled into the Wallsend station. I couldn’t wait to meet everyone.

The first thing I saw was the tie dyed shirt. “Ed,” I told MyHusband. Ed was exactly how I imagined him. Warm and kind with a big smile that made me feel right at home. A little bit of the anxiety that had been building for the last few month started to ease. I hugged Phil and was surprised at his height. I had imagined him a little shorter and I was happy he didn’t have a mountain man beard.  JJDaddyo was there and seemed a little shy but I could tell he’d be a lot of fun once we got to know each other. I shook hands with Dan and realized that Yes, girls, we were right. He is a very sexy man. Also very sweaty but that kinda adds to the experience. Before I knew what was happening we were off and walking. I figured I’d get to know everyone else along the way. I was wrong.

MyHusband and I stopped to take a picture of the sign at the start of the walk and when we looked back up most of the group was gone! I looked left. I looked right. No one! “WTF?” I mouthed to MyHusband. “I don’t know,” he mouthed back. He pulled out his map and confirmed we were on the right path and we had not been abducted and replanted by aliens, then we walked on.

Throughout the day we occasionally had a walker spotting. There were a few congregating around the pay toilet. Some stopped on a hill for lunch and we joined them briefly. We were happy when we had a few people to walk with but MyHusband had to “commune with nature” and by the time he finished we were alone again.

“Hey, we’ll just walk at our own pace and enjoy ourself” MyHusband told me when he saw the disappointment on my face. He held my hand tightly and I felt strong. Then we walked on.

We eventually caught up with another couple and walked with them for awhile. They were adorable and they made us smile. They also explained kissing gates which came in handy the next day even if I didn’t bring my chapstick.

We finally got close to the end and then we walked straight uphill for about a mile, got lost, had an old man with an even older dog walk us back to the right path, then arrived exhausted, sweaty, and smelly at the bunk barn. All I could do was sit at the table with my head in my hands and question my sanity. But, as you know I am very good at denial and I thought everything would turn out well. I was sure of it. We headed out for dinner.

We had a good dinner if you’re a carnivore. MyHusband was in heaven. I ate three types of root vegetables and something purple that I was assured didn’t contain animals. I’m still not convinced. Once we finished we asked about transportation to the B&B that we had been assigned to for the night. That’s when we were told to make our own arrangements. So we did.

After a cab ride that ended up being much longer than it should have been we arrived at the B&B to be greeted by a inhospitable, sour faced man that demanded we take off our shoes. Then he gave us our room number, pointed his finger and said, “Now, up with you” Up I went! My dream of insane B&B owners was starting to play out before my eyes. I double checked the locks and put a chair in front of the door. I also checked the windows for the quickest way to escape in case of emergency. Then I took a long hot bath and snuggled up with MyHusband. I felt relaxed and good for the first time in what seemed like days. Then the noise started.

I got out of bed and went to the window. There was some type of industrial noise going on somewhere. Maybe someone was cutting the grass? Weed whacking? Insane B&B owner sharpening his chain saw? I wasn’t sure, then it became clear. Someone in the next room was snoring. And snore they did. Loud and proud, all night long!

All I could think was that the next day was even longer than the first and I would be doing it without any sleep. I sat quietly against the wall for awhile. Trying to make myself calm, trying to convince myself that everything would be fine. I mostly convinced myself. I am very good at denial. Then I laid down in bed and cried quietly into my pillow. I didn’t want MyHusband to know I was sad but somehow he figured it out. He snuggled me up safe and warm against him and we laid there awake waiting for the sun to come up so we could head out for day number two.

I suppose some people are happy with mediocrity. We all do what we need to do to get through the day and I’m no exception. If everyone is alive and not hungry by bedtime I consider myself a success. If I have manged to make a plate of home baked cookies, then all the better. There are a few things I excel at but not many. Some days, though, I find myself excelling without even trying. Today was one of those days.

I was fully aligned with my mediocrity as I dropped my daughter off at art class and started to walk at a medium pace around the the mediocre city I call home. I’d planned on an average length walk then back to pick up my daughter. I was working the second-rate day and it was working out great for me. I was almost done with my walk when it happened.

I know you think I fell and made a fool of myself but you are wrong. I have fallen and made a fool of myself many, many times but this was not one of them. I wouldn’t waste your time with that, again. I made a fool of myself in a completely different way.

The fool making involved a very large dog. He was running towards me at a great rate of speed and jumped up on the fence. He barked right in my ear and I though he was going to take my head off. Panicked, I screamed and ran a safe distance past the dog and stopped in the middle of the street. Cars had to stop because I was standing in the middle of the road. MyHusband was looking at me rather peculiarly. The owner of the dog was standing there just looking at me. He wasn’t trying to keep the dog from killing me! He wasn’t trying to control the hell-hound. Luckily the dog stopped before he ate me. Feeling that I was now out of danger I decided to tell the man what I though of him and his attack dog. It started with F and ended with U. I also spiced it up with something that rhymes with passphole.

Many of you may be unaware that I am only a potty mouth when I type. I guess I have potty fingers. In my whole entire life I have used the F word maybe 4 or 5 times. It’s just not how I interact with the world. It’s how I think about the world but not how I interact. I was raised better than that. So this was quite a momentous occasion for me. I not only used the F word, I shouted it from the middle of the road while stopping traffic, while being attacked by a dog, at a man I have never met in my life. That is exceptional! I exceeded my wildest dreams. And the fact that the attack dog was a chocolate lab wearing a bandanna and standing up on a white picket fence with his tongue hanging out and looking at me like he was waiting for me to throw him a ball doesn’t change that on little bit. No, It doesn’t.

As part of getting ready for walking across England in a few months I walk around our neighborhood. I try to walk for an hour but not all days allow that. Some days are too rainy or too busy, or I’m just too tired. But I do manage to walk as much as I can and I feel better when I do. I’m starting to miss it when I don’t walk. I think that is good.

The only problem with all this walking is all the time to think. Because let’s face it, walking the same streets every day can get boring. We all know that weird things happen when I think, especially if I have had too much caffeine. And when I’m bored I get angry. So I am out there thinking, bored, and angry. Also, my right foot hurt.

My left foot could win the iron man marathon, my right foot is a wuss. It’s like that whiny kid that’s always complaining about something. The one that cries because a he got a scratch walking by a brier patch, or the one that that goes all drama queen because he got mud on his shoes. You just want to smack it in the head and tell it to shut up but you can’t because you don’t believe in violence.

Anyway, back to the story. I’m thinking about stuff while feeling angry and bored and I see the most perfect lawn I’ve ever seen in my life. The grass was so green and so lush. I stopped in my tracks and started to drool. I imagined taking off my shoes and running through it. Hell, taking off my clothes and rolling in it. I was sure it felt nicer than the nicest of nice carpets. It was greener than the greenest of greens. I was falling in love with a square patch of turf. It was a pure and true love. Then things went haywire.

I saw the man spreading fertilizer on his lawn. Then I imagined that fertilizer washing down the storm drain and into the river. Then I saw the algae bloom turning the river red and the dead fish floating on the surface. I’ve seen this before and it is not pretty. I saw all the chemicals polluting the water my new baby niece would drinking and the cancer that far to many people I know have had and do have. It pissed me off. It really fucking pissed me off. So I sneered at the man when he wasn’t looking and kept on walking. I’m not much into confrontation.  I walked until I was just bored, thinking and angry instead of pissed off and then I got pissed off again.

This time I’m pissed off at the environmentalists and grass. I hate grass and I hate environmentalists. I hate them because, even if I never use one ounce of fertilizer, even if I use no chemicals on my garden, if I recycle, and if I conserve water and energy, and never go to the store without a reusable bag, it doesn’t matter. I can spend the rest of my life being environmentally conscious and I would not make one little bit of difference. There is nothing I can do in my entire lifetime that won’t be undone by one single hour, probably one single minute of all the car traffic, coal plants, commercial agriculture, chemical plants, and factories that are running at this very moment.

In the hour that I walked around my neighborhood wanting to smack my right foot, everything I have done for the environment and everything I will ever do was made null and void. And that sucks.

Fuck you, environmentalists. Fuck you, grass.

I took that long walk today. The one that starts out on a wide gravel road then it gets smaller and smaller. It becomes nothing more than a space between trees. Dark and foreboding full of imagined snakes and real spiders, vine covered trees, and shadows. All the things that books and movie use to foreshadow doom. I was scared to walk there without you but it didn’t stop me.

I came to the train tracks, then a tunnel entrance covered with years worth of weeds. Honey suckle, poison ivy, and morning glories. Many years ago we decided it might be a metaphor for life. God, we were trashed that day! The vines were dormant and leafless for the winter but I knew they would be back in a few months and I knew I wouldn’t have the courage to cross them when they blossomed. I stood there until I felt I would loose my nerve, then I made myself continue on.

I pushed through brush, ducked under branches and crawled over fallen trees. My walk was coming to an end and each step was just a little slower than the last. Just past the sharp turn. I just had to make it past there.

I closed my eyes and stepped into the clearing. When I opened them it was like I remembered – but different. It wasn’t quite the same. I scanned the large gaping holes where men had gouged the gravel and sand from the earth. When they had taken everything they wanted they left it unattended, ugly and broken, alone to fend for itself. We loved that ugly place. We loved it because it was ours. No one else ever went there.

All these years later and the wounds were starting to heal. Grass and trees have grown. Sharp edges were softer. The water a little less stagnant. The light was filtered by the trees and the harshness was giving way to a aged softness. I wondered for a minute if it was a metaphor for life and I wasn’t even trashed.

No one but you and me would know why I went there. Most days I think we are the only ones that would even understand. Maybe the only people that would even care. I stayed for a long time but the time I spent didn’t make up for the time I had been away. When it was time for me to go I left behind my tears, markings from a paint stick, and a mostly full bottle of strawberry wine.

The walk back was shorter than I’d though it would be.

It must have been about 10 years ago. It was before I had a youngest but I remember little white baby shoes in a well-worn lap. They were both sitting comfortably in a wheel chair and both were excited because chocolate pudding was on the dinner menu. I was listening to them talking and giggling when I saw him.

He was shuffling slowly, almost painfully towards me and he was saying something. His voice was gruff, barely a whisper. He stopped in front of me and spoke to me but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Then he held out his arm for me to take. I told him I’d love to take a walk with him.

We walked around the common room and he talked to me. I don’t know what he said. It sounded melodic and rhythmic. I wasn’t sure if he was singing a song or reciting poetry. I suppose it’s all the same. After a few minutes he started to get confused and agitated and the nurse came to take him back to his room.

I leaned in and kissed him on his cheek, then I told him I loved him. His eyes started to sparkle and for a second or two I thought he was young again. I couldn’t watch as the nurse walked him back down the hall. I just wanted to remember that look in his eyes. And I did.

I’d never seen that man before but when I said I love you, I meant it. I’ve never seen him since, but when I think of him I still love him. I don’t understand how things like that work. For some reason I think he did.